


On a Rainy Night

by Fire_Sign



Series: Phrack Fucking Fridays [25]
Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, pff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-08 03:09:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15921564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Sign/pseuds/Fire_Sign
Summary: After a difficult case, there really is only one way for the day to get better.





	On a Rainy Night

She was seated in the window seat when he arrived at Wardlow, her knees drawn up beneath her chin and a downturn of her lips that made his heart ache. She glanced towards the door when she heard him arrive, giving a strained smile before turning back towards the window. 

“Did you speak with her mother?” she asked, deliberately not looking towards him.

“I did. She doesn’t blame you.”

“She doesn’t need to. I should have--”

“No.”

It was a futile effort, as he knew it would be. Jack sighed, shrugging off his suit jacket and draping it over the back of a chair as he came closer. She moved forward slightly, silently offering him space to sit behind her; he took it, wrapping an arm around her waist. 

“Some days, Jack, I’m not certain why you put up with me,” she said, voice quiet. 

He pressed a kiss against her hair. He hated these moments, rare though they were--the depths of Phryne’s heart were unfathomable, rivalled only by the sense of responsibility. He knew her too well to give her his sympathy, and loved her too much to give her his pity. 

"Now that, Miss Fisher, is a rather excellent question and one I've asked myself many times. I'm sure an answer will come to me eventually."

She gave a derisive snort, but he could still feel the gloom weighing on her shoulders. He trailed a hand up and down her bared arm, pulling her closer; she came to rest against his shoulder with a heavy sigh.

“It could be Mr. Butler’s gratin,” he offered. 

“He is rather marvelous,” she agreed, her heart not quite in it.

“Or perhaps I am wildly in love with your Aunt Prudence, and hope one day she’ll understand and return my affections.”

“She’d be mad not to.”

“And Wardlow is closer to City South, which is really rather convenient in the morning.” 

“I can appreciate a man who knows the value of sleep.”

His free hand reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear, pressing a kiss to the soft patch of skin behind it that always turned her knees weak. She relaxed into him further, reaching up to lay her hand on top of his. He moved his fingers so they laced through hers, anchoring them together. 

"And I could hardly leave Jane to be raised by a troublemaker such as yourself,” he continued, tone as pompous as possible. “A girl _must_ have a positive role model in her life, lest she turn to a life of crime. I know her, she'd run circles around my constables. The paperwork alone..."

Phryne gave an actual laugh at that. “Jack!”

“I’m not finished yet, Miss Fisher. Perhaps it’s your scandalous reputation--it had been quite a few years of celibacy, you know. Or your ability to solve my cases and reduce my workload--”

“I’ve never reduced your workload in my life!” she said, bolting upright and sounding almost indignant; the return of spirit in her tone was a balm. 

“Perhaps I let you believe that for my own convenience.”

She spun around, coming to straddle his lap in a movement so smooth he wasn’t even aware of it until it was over.

“Take it back,” she ordered.

He pretended to think.

“You know, I don’t think I will.”

Melancholy, no matter how deserved, could not withstand the promise of a challenge, and--for the moment--her smile held no shadows. She kissed him thoroughly, her hands running through his hair and her hips pulsing against his lap; the woman was dangerous. Eventually she pulled away, stilling.

“Take it back.”

In the fog his mind had become--forget dangerous, _deadly_ was more accurate a term--it took him a moment to remember what horrible statement he was supposed to renege. 

“Mmmm, no. I don’t see any advantage in it for me.”

“Liar.”

He ran his hands up her back, nudged her closer. Left a path of kisses along her exposed clavicle, licked the hollow of her throat, caressed her breast. She purred in response, tugging at his hair to lift his lips towards hers once more. 

“Take it back,” she whispered, dangling the promise of another kiss just out of reach, “or you’ll never see my new lingerie.”

*

Later, in bed, lingerie admired and bodies sated and the scent of her still on his fingers, her head found his shoulder once more.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

“For what?”

“Coming here tonight.”

As if he would have been anywhere else. He kissed the crown of her head once more.

“And I’ve decided that it doesn’t matter why, so long as you are,” she continued, fingers skittering up and down his stomach and tone just a touch too innocent to be _entirely_ sincere.

He could tell her the truth--that the case had not been easy for him either, but he knew there would be a welcome for him in her home; that she was brilliant and clever and immensely kind; that she aggravated him sometimes, with her impulsiveness and courage and independence, but even then he did not _doubt_ her choices; that he loved her with an intensity that frightened him as often as not, because life was not fair and it was not kind and sometimes the worst happened no matter what decision you made. He could tell her the truth, but she already knew. 

He tilted her head up so she met his eyes.

“Alright, alright,” he said, kissing her softly before pulling away. “I’ll make a full confession.” She looked at him expectantly, a slightly smug smile on her lips at his capitulation; he did his best to hide the mischief in his own. “I’d never be able to afford silk sheets.”


End file.
